


Fresh Bruises

by Heckyheck_Icravedeath



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: :((, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blood, Crying, Depressed Peter Parker, Hurt Peter Parker, I keep hurting my spiderchild and its not right, Irondad, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sad, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, The Author Regrets Everything, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Why Did I Write This?, Worried Tony Stark, someone pls stop me, stressed Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 00:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18954652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heckyheck_Icravedeath/pseuds/Heckyheck_Icravedeath
Summary: Peter sat on the bathroom floor like he did many times before and held the usual blade to his wrist.Just one. He promised himself.A promise he was going to break. He always did.It was neverjust one. It was alwaysjust one, then another. It was alwaysjust one, then another and another and another.





	Fresh Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings!! 
> 
> \- Mentions of self-harm/suicide attempt  
> \- Mentions of blood, lots of blood

Peter sat on the bathroom floor like he did many times before and held the usual blade to his wrist. _Just one_. He promised himself. 

A promise he was going to break. He always did. 

It was never _just one_. It was always _just one, then another_. It was always _just one, then another and another and another_. 

There was one promise that he didn’t break and that was: never go _too_ deep. 

He always went to the point where there was a small trickle of blood dripping down his arms. Never more, never less. It was enough. 

But then suddenly it wasn’t enough. He wanted — no — _needed_ more, more, more. 

It wasn’t really _him_ that wanted more though, you need to understand that. It was the little voice in the back of his mind that screamed at him. It screamed things similar to what Flash said to him at school. It taunted him, insulted him, made him feel like he _had_ to do what he was doing, like he deserved it. It made him feel like he needed more than little droplets of blood, made him feel like he needed _rivers_ of blood. 

So, this time, he went deep. The voice laughed and sneered, _wow look at you. Finally listening to me. I have to say, I am surprised. I thought you’d be a fighter, but it looks like you aren’t. So much for being Spider-Man. Maybe you should give that up and give it to someone who is worthy of being a superhero because you sure as hell aren’t. You’re weak, pathetic, and everyone who says that they love you is lying because you aren’t lovable. You’re too messed up to be loved. You’re too much of a burden to be loved._

Peter started to cry after that because it was true. All of it. He _was_ weak. He _was_ pathetic. He _was_ too messed up and too much of a burden for people to actually care about him and love him. 

_Aw poor Peter is crying now. What a baby. You’re even more pathetic than I thought._

Hot tears slipped down Peter’s cheeks as he listened to that stupid voice. 

_Imagine if Ned and MJ could see you right now. They’d unfriend you real fast, wouldn’t they? Who would want to be friends with a loser that cries like a baby and hurts himself like you Peter Parker? No one would. Stop denying it. Just accept it._

“Get out of my head.” He begged helplessly. “Please, _get out_.” 

_Oh stop your whining you big baby. I have to tell you all of this because no one else will. They are all too nice to say it. Too nice to say that you are worthless. Too nice to say that you aren’t special. Too nice to say that you could be oh so easily replaced. Too nice to say that they wouldn’t miss you if you were gone. Too nice to say-_

The voice droned on and on. Peter tried to ignore it by focusing on the blood coming out of the cuts, by focusing on making more cuts. Deeper ones. Ones that could make that damn voice shut up. 

The voice paused for a moment before saying, _damn, kid. Lot of blood you got there. Are you finally accepting your worthlessness and trying to do something about it? If so, do continue. You’d be doing lots of people a favor with that._

Something snapped in Peter’s head and he realized that he went too far. He had been focusing on the blood too much and hadn’t noticed just how much there actually was. 

Shit, there was _a lot_. 

That’s when the sheer panic set in. 

_Shitshitshit_ , he wasn’t ready to die yet. That voice made him believe he was, but he very much wasn’t. Not in the slightest. 

May wasn’t home. She was at work which meant Peter was alone and he was bleeding profusely. 

_Not good, not good, not good._

He grabbed two white hand towels off the bathroom counter and pressed one to each arm. It was an awkward position, but Peter didn’t care. What mattered more was not bleeding out. But apparently that was going to happen because no matter how hard he pressed the cloths to his arms, the blood just kept coming and coming. 

He needed to call someone, he knew that, but he didn’t know _who_ to call. He couldn’t bother Ned. He was probably sleeping and Peter didn’t want to wake him. He couldn't bother MJ. She was most likely sleeping as well. Plus, he didn’t want to tell them about this. Like that stupid voice said, they’d want to stop being friends if they knew. 

That left one other person that Peter could call. So with slow movements, as to not screw with the towels, and more panic because he had no idea how to explain this, he grabbed his phone and called said person. 

It only took two rings for the call to connect. “Kid, what the fuck? It’s two in the morning, why are you awake?” The sleepy voice of Tony Stark filled the bathroom. 

“Can you come over? May is working and I’m alone and I’m bleeding.” Peter said quietly, fear creeping into his tone. 

“Shit. How bad are you bleeding?” Tony asked with a more awake voice then before. 

“Uh, really bad.” There was rustling on the other end of the phone. Peter assumed that it was Tony getting out of bed. 

“Fuck. Okay. I’ll be over in like five minutes.” There was a pause, more rustling, and then the jingle of car keys. “Why are you bleeding?” 

Peter stayed quiet. He didn’t know what to say without sounding like a complete maniac. 

_You’re going to sound like a maniac anyway you say it, dumbass_. The voice stated with sick amusement. 

The voice had a point though. There was no way to say it that sounded normal because it wasn’t a _normal_ thing to do. 

Tony would judge him. He would think that Peter was weak and a coward. He would take away the suit. He would never speak to Peter again. He would-

“Peter?” Tony’s voice cut through Peter’s panicked thoughts. 

“Yes?” His voice sounded so small, identical to a wounded child. 

“Why are you bleeding?” 

Peter ignored the question. He couldn’t answer that. Not yet. He was too scared, _too much of a coward_ , as the voice liked to sneer. So, instead he answered with, “Please just get here.” 

A sigh escaped Tony’s lips, but he didn’t push the subject. He simply agreed to be there as quick as he could and then the call ended. 

The voice took more jabs at Peter while he waited for Tony. Things along the lines of, _wow look at you crawling to Tony Stark. It’s almost hilarious that you think he, the most famous and amazing guy on the planet, cares about you. He just doesn’t want your blood on his hands._

 _Don’t believe that. Don’t do it_. He willed himself as much as he could, but he found himself falling into the trap, as always. 

Tony got there in less than five minutes. He actually got there in two. Peter had no idea how he managed that, but he was grateful. 

“Pete, where are you?” Tony’s voice cut through the silence of the apartment. 

“Bathroom.” Peter replied with that broken, little kid voice. He winced and tried to focus on keeping the cloths steady in his shaky hands. 

The door to the bathroom opened to reveal a very concerned Tony with a first aid kit in his hands. 

That concerned look grew as he caught sight of the scene in front of him. “We need to go to the hospital.” He tossed the kit aside and moved to attempt to scoop Peter up in his arms without disturbing the towels. 

“No, no please. No hospital. May’s there. She’ll see and…” He tried to protest, but dizziness cut him off. 

“Kid. We’re going to the hospital. You’ll _die_ if I don’t take you and I don’t want you to die.” Peter gave the best nod he could while teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. 

He eventually stopped teetering and tipped over into the deep, black abyss of unconsciousness. 

 

*

 

Peter came back around when they were bringing him into the hospital. He was laying on a bed and was being wheeled into what he assumed was an operations room because he would definitely need stitches. There was no avoiding that one. 

With stitches in mind and the lingering fear of dying, he blacked out again. 

 

*

 

The next time that he woke up, he was in a standard hospital room. 

It was quiet, so he figured he was alone, but then something shifted beside his bed. He turned to find Tony. He seemed to be lost in thought, but by the looks of it, they weren't very good thoughts to be lost in. He was tense and his face was filled with stress. 

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing that came out of Peter’s mouth. He couldn't help it. 

“No, don't you _dare_ apologize to me. You did _nothing_ wrong.” 

_He's lying. You did everything wrong. You always do_. The voice growled. _He’s just trying to make you feel better because he’s nice._

 _That’s not true. Shut up_. Peter shot back. 

_Yes it is. You know it is. You’re just denying it because you can’t handle it. Weak._

He was going to say something back, but Tony spoke again. “Hey, you with me?” 

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” He mumbled and averted his gaze to his arms. They were stitched up, he felt that, and tight bandages covered the stitches. 

Tony sighed, but didn’t speak for a few minutes. When he _did_ speak, Peter wanted to cry. “You really fucking scared me.” 

Guilt creeped into Peter’s stomach, but he didn’t say sorry. He knew that Tony would have his head if he did. He just kept his mouth shut and listened to Tony go on. “When you called, I thought you got shot or something on patrol. But then Friday said your suit wasn’t active and that’s when I got real worried because what the hell would make you bleed if it wasn’t Spidey related. Then I came over and...just...kid, what the _fuck?_ ” He sounded so physically pained. More guilt twisted around in Peter’s gut. God, he was such a fuck up, wasn’t he? 

“Why...why didn’t you say anything? You could’ve come to me for help. You know that right? I’m here for you. Please know that. _Please_.” Tony let out a breath and Peter finally met his eye again. He looked so _sad_ and Peter felt _worse_. “The doctors said that you had been doing that for a while. Lots of scars, they said. I...kid, _why?_ What happened? Please tell me. I’m so fucking worried about you.” 

He hesitated before explaining. “School kids aren’t nice. Flash is the worst. God, it’s fucking constant. He’s always in my face about _something_. It can be the smallest thing and he makes it this big thing. I can’t even breathe without him criticizing me.” Peter sighed shakily. “And now, it’s in my head. He’s lodged all that shit in _my_ brain and now I can’t fucking escape it. It’s 24 fucking 7. Somewhere in there I started to...you know…” He nudged his head towards his arms. “It was never _this_ bad though. Just small ones. But today I just...snapped.” 

_You sound insane. I can’t wait until he decides to ship you off to a mental hospital._

Peter chewed on his lower lip and swallowed the lump in his throat. He did sound like a psycho. 

“Peter, you should’ve told me.” 

“Yeah and have you go to jail because you murdered a 17 year old? No thanks.” 

“I wouldn’t have _murdered_ him. Just would have _lightly hurt_ him.” 

“ _No._ ” They both let out small laughs at that. It helped rid the room of some tension, but there was still plenty there. Most of it was radiating off of Tony, with good reason though. Peter would be acting the same way if their positions were switched. 

“In all seriousness, I know how it feels. I was the same way with the bullying and all that. There were like 50 new rumors about me everyday. It fucking sucked, but I got through it and you will too. I’ll make sure of it. You deserve all the happiness in the world, kid. You are the _best_ damn person I’ve ever met and I’ll personally _lightly hurt_ anyone who says otherwise.” Peter smiled the tiniest bit and shook his head. 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“You love me.” 

“Unfortunately.” He joked before saying, “But thank you. For everything.” 

“Please, I’d do anything for you. You’re like my actual child.” Peter’s smile grew, but it only lasted so long because the voice was back, ruining the moment as always. 

_Damn, he’s a good liar isn’t he? Round of applause for Tony Stark._

That smile faltered and he swallowed another lump that had sneaked up into the back of his throat. Tony noticed, of course he did. “Get more rest. I’ll be here when you wake up and we can figure out everything together, okay? I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not going anywhere. Got that?” 

“Got it.” Peter had that stupid wounded child’s voice again and it took everything in him not to cringe when he talked. 

Tony leaned forward to press a kiss to Peter’s head. It relaxed him a little and it was almost like a pinky promise, which settled a little bit of the doubt that spun around in his chest. 

“I love you so much, Underoos. Please don’t _ever_ doubt that. I know it’s hard, but you just have to trust me.” 

“I do trust you.” 

Peter did. He trusted Tony with his _life_ and that wouldn’t change, no matter how much that voice stated otherwise. He would make sure of that.

**Author's Note:**

> wow, I'm sorry. This one hurts...
> 
> Important Note!: 
> 
> I wrote this one mostly because i think it's important. People struggle with bullying and depression all the time and people need to be aware of that. Also I know it feels like you're alone and that you have no one, but that's not true. There is always SOMEONE there for you even if it feels like the complete opposite. And if you really believe that no one is there for you, then dm me on my Instagram account, @theavengersbitch. And I'll be that person. I care about all of you even if we don't talk. You all are great people and you deserve happiness. 
> 
> The next one will be happy, I SWEAR. Lmao that's most likely going to end up being a lie because I fucking live for angst soooooooo. I apologize in advance for anything and everything that I'm going to do. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments and likes are appreciated!<3333


End file.
